novelnext Page 450
Page 450
A pitch-black forest, inhabited by a pack of chaotic and evil beasts.
A team of valiant knights, and a secret that must be kept forever.
This is him.
Feeling the fragments that flashed through his mind, he continued walking along the riverbank.
The river changed direction, and the traveler followed it around a bend before stopping.
A castle stands on the opposite bank.
In the center of that tranquil lake, it seems to have stood there forever.
The only thing that could cross the wide, calm water in front of the building was a floating boat.
There was a person sitting on the boat.
In the shadows, he couldn't make out the other person's exact features.
"Hello? Where is this place?!"
He tried to step forward and enter the water.
Even if the other party is unwilling to give him a ride, he can still cross the river with his strong body.
But this river... this river made him feel threatened.
A shadow—an exceptionally eerie and enormous shadow—encircled the person sitting on the boat, seemingly waiting for a more opportune moment to pounce.
Come back, return to the shore.
A small figure stood on the shore, wrapped in a dark green robe, almost blending into the background.
It was only the size of a child, but it knew the other's true identity—a Dark Watcher.
"What should I do? Where am I?"
【Home】
Family?
Everything before him was strangely familiar, yet he couldn't recall anything about it—an overwhelming sense of anxiety began to churn within him.
That's enough. What is he going to do? And where can he go?
Follow your nature
The riddle, as always, is very much in "his" style—although at this moment he doesn't know who the "him" he's talking about really is, deep down he seems to already have an answer.
"Ok."
He began to walk forward, into the jungle.
......
The characteristics of the forest have changed.
As he tried to make his way through the bushes into the forest, he could sense the presence of his prey. He could always detect the scent of their blood.
As he traversed the jungle thickets, he encountered many enemies—fierce beasts with fangs and evil demons all fell to the ground beneath his sword.
He began to recall everything about himself, bit by bit.
From his name and identity to his swordsmanship memories, and much more, everything flooded his mind as he hunted wild beasts.
The Lion King.
Ryan Aljonsen.
Dark Angel.
The emperor's eldest son.
First Legion Primarch.
(Second) Imperial (Temporary) War General (Some of his memories that were not easy to recall were temporarily covered up by him)
third--
Okay, there's no third one, that's all for now.
Not only these titles and honors, but also many other things came to mind during the process of slaying the beasts.
For example, the internal strife that took place in Caliban ten thousand years ago.
"What kind of trick is this?"
Ten thousand years ago, when he and the Dark Angels had finished bombing (part of) the rebel army's homeland and were returning to their homeworld, the Taliban, after the battle of Holy Terra—
He was attacked by Luther, Caliban's guardian and also his most trusted father and offspring (which is possible with the Primarch).
Ultimately, after a fierce battle, Caliban was destroyed and reduced to ruins.
At this point, Ryan's memory ends.
Even he wouldn't remember why Luther, who was originally very close to him, would eventually choose to turn against him and blow up the entire Caliban in the process.
He continued forward, wandering aimlessly through the thicket.
However, what he faced next was no longer a ferocious beast.
That is--
A priest of dark angels stood before him, refuting his words.
"The Nicaea decree was issued by the Emperor! My lord, that is the highest authority!"
understood.
A reflection of the past, Nemir is still chasing him.
"enough!"
As if by reflex, in his rage, his hand lashed out with unimaginable speed.
With a bang, the psionic shield from the necklace around Nemir's neck activated.
"My lord?! What are you doing?"
The pastor's head didn't fly off; instead, it shook his hand so badly it hurt.
Amidst alternating regret and rage, the Lion King found himself speechless in an awkward situation.
"My lord, instead of obeying the Nicaea ban, you've chosen to attack me!"
"But! But don't you also possess a psionic field necklace? This kind of technology—"
"No! My lord!"
"Using witchcraft is a blatant violation of the rules set by the Emperor! As a glorious member of the First Legion..."
Even his signature flying head punch is no longer usable properly; what a complete failure!
Moreover... the lion remembered that from then on, Nemir clung to him like a nightmare, constantly criticizing him no matter what he did...
With an almost fleeing pace, Ryan walked toward the bushes that had reappeared on the spaceship's cabin before him.
......
Trials from the past and from his brothers and sisters followed one after another.
During his time fighting his way through the bush, he had recalled everything from when he left Holy Terra for Caliban.
"Where were you when we were fighting bloody battles on the front lines? Where were you when we were fighting on the Istvan 5, on the Holy Terra, Ryan?"
Volkan's giant hammer struck him in the chest.
Fugrim's rapier pierced his throat.
Corax's lightning claws aimed straight for his head.
"I......"
He remained silent amidst the wrath of the Primarchs.
Nothing to say.
Ryan could only feel the anger from his brothers and sisters, anger at his failure to arrive in time, anger at the fact that as one of the Emperor's most favored legions, he was absent during the most crucial rebellion.
“Brother… I so hoped you could fight alongside us, Ryan.”
After the phantoms disappeared one after another, they were immediately subjected to questioning by Saint Gilles.
Saint Gilles did not attack him as the previous Primarchs had.
But she caused the Lion King more harm than anyone else.
“Yes… I made the wrong choice… If I had returned to Holy Terra with you instead of believing that foolish prophecy… I would still be here!”
Yes, it's all because of him...
If he could participate normally in the siege of Holy Terra, if he could step forward to help in times of crisis...
Perhaps the angel wouldn't have died on the Vengeance Soul, but would have been able to take over the Emperor's work and continue leading them all on their expedition.
Damn it... if only someone had arrived in time...
wrong!
Besides him, the Lion, there was another Primarch who was also slacking off!
Overwhelmed with guilt, Ryan chose to take his anger out on others.
There is still one person who hasn't arrived at the battlefield of Holy Terra!
Then, thinking about the other two giants who co-founded the Second Reich—it seems that only Guilliman, that treacherous, cunning, and ambitious fellow, had the last laugh!
"Guilliman!!! Why!"
"Why wasn't it you who died on Holy Terra?!"
Snapped!
Just as the lion was about to roar to the sky, something seemed to be touching the armor on his legs.
what?
He subconsciously looked down toward the source of the touch and saw a blonde, blue-eyed little girl with an angry expression blocking his way with her short legs, seemingly trying to trip him up...?
Lion: "...?"
"you are?"
"Who am I? I'm Guilliman! Hehehe, you didn't expect that, did you, Grandpa Lion!?"
......
What the hell are all these things?!
Without warning, the lion was so frightened by the other party's tone and appearance that he felt a chill run down his spine and sat down on the ground.
and many more.
All the Primarchs are normal—at least they behave normally in this illusion.
Except you, Guilliman!
What are you doing, Guilliman?!
What exactly happened?
Seeing that the other person had actually been tripped up, the little girl smiled triumphantly and put her hands on her chubby waist.
"Hehe~ Small fish, small fish~ Grandpa Lion Prison is really a small fish!"
"grandfather?"
“Guilliman, I’m your brother! Don’t you even recognize me? Even if I’m old now, I’m still not your grandfather!”
"Huh?"
The little girl tilted her head to one side, looking somewhat puzzled.
“But Grandpa, I’m not Guilliman. The Guilliman you’re talking about is the name my dad used to say.”
Guilliman, is he your father?
The lion sheathed his sword and pondered the words.